“Then my father bruised you. I can’t even remember what threw him into a rage that day, because I was used to it. I’d handled him for years. But the moment he took his fists to you, it broke me. It killed me to see you go up against him and defend your mother from his rage. You’d told me in the darkness of my bedroom how her previous boyfriend had been handy with his fists. How she stayed regardless. I knew your mother wasn’t going to be the one to save you. I had to get the two of you out of the house and away from my father for good.” Her breathing shuddered. My disquiet turned to horror. I
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